


Fallen Arrangements

by Tellurion



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dom Beelzebub, Dom/sub Play, Fallen Angel Gabriel (Good Omens), Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), M/M, Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Sub Gabriel (Good Omens), except not really, safe words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-07-29 23:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20090395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tellurion/pseuds/Tellurion
Summary: Crowley stumbles upon Gabriel, seemingly freshly Fallen, and doesn't pass up a chance to gloat at the misfortune of the archangel - only to realize, a little too late, that there is something else going on entirely, incurring the wrath of his former boss in the process.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Even though Heaven and Hell seemed to be leaving them alone, Crowley took no chances and made sure to keep a watch out for any surprise celestial or infernal presences. This was why it alarmed him when he felt a particularly powerful presence - and a familiar one at that - manifesting itself nearby.  
  
He followed the faint pulse of energy as it grew stronger and stronger, leading him all the way to St. James’s Park. He tread cautiously, trying to blend in with the crowds and remain out of sight until he had ascertained more of the angel’s intentions and the level of threat that he represented.  
  
However, what he found was an angel who did not seem to be in a position to be a threat to anyone. Park-goers were passing by the angel, but Crowley could see him - slumped against a tree, looking a far cry from the immaculate, composed angel that Crowley had occasionally glimpsed over at Aziraphale’s.  
  
Gabriel was pressed against the tree, curled up with his knees brought to his chest and his arms hugging them to himself. His wings were curled around his corporation, except they were ragged looking- feathers were missing and those that remained were a deep ashy black. His lilac suit was dirty and smudged until it appeared more grey than purple and the sleeves of it were torn halfway up his forearm. The skin beneath was red and scored with welts and cuts and the nails were jagged and torn. His normally coiffed hair was greasy and limp and a scent of smoke lingered over him. At the sound of Crowley’s footsteps, he looked up and his violet eyes had changed into inky pools that seemed to swallow all light.   
  
Piecing together what must have happened, Crowley sauntered closer and a smirk stretched it’s way across his face. “Archangel Gabriel! Fancy seeing you here. Although I suppose I probably shouldn’t be calling you that, should I?” It was a dangerous game he was playing, he thought, but he couldn’t help it - not when he was seeing the cold, proud angel, the one who had tried to burn Aziraphale, reduced to this.  
  
“Crowley?” His dark eyes narrowed.  
  
“Yessss. Should I still call you Gabriel though?” He continued on his train of thought and came a little closer. “After all, angels lose their name when they Fall. And that’s what’s happened, isn’t it? You’ve Fallen!”  
  
“No!” He snarled. “I haven’t Fallen! Now go away! You can’t be here.”  
  
“What’s the matter?” He leaned over him, brimming with smug satisfaction. “Ashamed? Always thought you were better than us and now you come to find out your no holier than any of the demons in the pit?”  
  
Gabriel looked to the side and his face grew red. “I told you. I’m not a demon. Go _away_.”  
  
“Still in denial, eh? Don’t want anybody to see you like this? The last of your ethereal nature will burn off soon enough - you won’t be able to deny it then.” The ground next to Crowley started to bubble and he backed up to give whoever was coming up a wider berth. “Oh! It seems you have a visitor from Below. Now, who could this be?”  
  
Beelzebub, Prince of Hell, rose up from the ground, dressed in their fully regalia complete with scabs and boils all over their face. They stood tall as they could and loomed over the prone form of the angel, kicking him in the shins to draw his attention.  
  
“Archangel Gabriel!” They pointed at him with a hand more clawed and demonic than it would normally be on the surface. “You have been judged and you have Fallen! Now Hell comes to claim its ow… Crowley, what the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Finally sensing the presence behind them, they turned on the other demon.  
  
“Ha! See? I knew it.” Crowley pointed at Gabriel. “Fallen!” Then he gave a quick nod to the demon standing in front of him. “How cruel of you to come by in his hour of despair, Lord Beelzebub!” He greeted them cheerfully.  
  
“I haven’t Fallen!” Gabriel snapped and finally sat up. “Beez, tell him I haven’t actually Fallen!”  
  
For the briefest moment, a confused look crossed their face, but in the next moment they arranged it into a nasty grin as they leaned over him. “Don’t try to deny it. You have been cazzzt out from Heaven. You belong with uzz now.” They grabbed him by his dark lapels and pushed him up against the tree. “You’ll be taken to the deepezzt pit we have and there you will learn what suffering is _truly_ all about!”  
  
“Stop it!”  
  
“I won’t zzztop,” they buzzed into his ear. “Not until your wingzzz are even more of a ragged, bloody wreck, until your lungzz burn from your screamzzz of agony, until you have zzeen all the punishment Hell hazzz to offer. Until your pretty face izzz torn and scarred.”  
  
“He’s going to think this is for real! I can’t have him gossiping about this!” He tried to shove them away but they smacked him across the face with a crack. He touched the spot of the strike and huffed. “Fine. _Bureaucracy_.”   
  
To Crowley’s surprise, Beelzebub’s expression crumpled a little and they let go of Gabriel who rubbed at the bruise on the side of his face. “Alright, fine.” They turned to Crowley with an enraged expression. “He’zzz not Fallen you dolt! Can’t you senzze his ethereal nature? Izzz there any demonic energy there at all?”  
  
Crowley blinked - not that they could see it behind his glasses. “But. His wings. And his eyes. Why does he look like that if he isn’t Fallen? And why did you show up just to…” His eyes grew wide behind them and his brows shot up. “Oh my G— Sat— What the _fuck_.”  
  
Gabriel straightened up. “It was none of your business!” He crossed his arms. “I told you to leave.”  
  
“Crowley?” Another voice called out to them from across the lawn and Aziraphale came into view, hurrying across the grass towards the demon. “Crowley, what are you doing, I sensed… oh.” He coughed and straightened up. “Gabriel. Beelzebub.”  
  
“Great. Now the other one is here too. Because this wasn’t awkward enough with just the demon.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and in a flash of light, his appearance changed completely. Gone were the dark, sooty wings; now they looked like they had for six thousand years, white coverts and scapulars bleeding into purple primaries and secondaries. His suit was once again perfectly tailored and pressed, with a cashmere scarf draped loosely about his neck. His eyes had changed from being deep, black voids to their customary violet and they focused on the Prince of Hell. “I’m sorry Beez. I can’t do this.” He glared at the couple. “It’s too weird now.”  
  
“But you azzzked!” Beelzebub protested. “We planned for agezzz, thizzz was your idea!”  
  
“I know. I know it was. But. I can’t. Alright?” He breathed out in a show of frustration. “Maybe we can try again some other time.” But his voice didn’t hold any confidence. “I’m sorry,” he repeated one last time and then he vanished in a flash of violet lightning.  
  
Beelzebub wheeled on the two who were still staring in a blend of consternation and confusion.  
  
“So. Erm. Definitely not a demon then.” Crowley broke the silence.  
  
“You idiotzz!” Beelzebub snarled and stomped over to them. “Do you know how long it took to even get him to talk to me about the thingzzz that tempted him, let alone agree to zzzomething like thizz? And then you come nozzzing around and ruin it. You think that becauzzze the water and fire didn’t work, I cannot touch you?” They grabbed the slim scarf around Crowley’s neck and yanked until they were eye to eye. “I can still dizzcorporate you piece by piece!” They glared at Aziraphale as well. “And you angel. I can infezzted that bookshop of yourzz until there are maggotz in all your food and book liczzze crawling over every page!”  
  
Aziraphale shuddered. “Please don’t do that.” He held up his hands. “I’m sure that whatever happened here was just a brief misunderstanding that can be cleared up straightaway.”   
  
“I’m going after him,” the shorter demon fumed. “And if I am unable to convinzzze him to change hizz mind, then you two are dead. Am I making myself underzzztood?”  
  
“Well I really don’t see how we can be responsible for…”  
  
“Perfectly, Lord Beelzebub!” Crowley gestured to Aziraphale, pressing his fingers and thumb together in clear _shut the blessed fuck up angel_ gesture.  
  
“Good.” Then the ground beneath their feet bubbled and burned as they sank down into it, leaving only a scent of sulfur behind.  
  
Aziraphale looked over at Crowley with a bewildered expression. “What on earth was that about?”  
  
“Uh. I can explain. I think. But first, wine. _Lots_ of wine.” And Crowley dragged him away before they could stumble into any more trouble.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

It took a lot of walking before Gabriel felt something akin to himself again - in control, level-headed, certainly with no untoward ideas about demons and Falling. But it had been an exhausting day and he needed… something. Looking around as he strolled, it didn’t take him too long to find the shop he was searching for.

As a rule Gabriel wasn’t fond of food. He didn’t need it, the textures were strange, and masticating was rather disgusting. But there was something he admired about coffee. It stimulated his corporation, made him more alert and therefore a better worker. For many humans, it seemed an absolute necessity to getting work done and while he didn’t think the humans had much to offer, anything that increased efficiency was something he could appreciate.

There was the problem that it was bitter. But that could be remedied. Granted, the solution made the coffee rather more like a shake, but that was fine too - after all, shakes didn’t contain any food content so coffee in the form of shake didn’t really count as food. He took a moment to straighten out his suit and approached the counter.

“One venti mocha Frappuccino, affogato style, breve, with a mocha drizzle and nutmeg powder.”

He waited off to the side as they prepared it and took it from the barista with a stiff, broad smile. At the first sip, his shoulders relaxed a little.

“That’zzz dizzzguzting.”

He didn’t even need to turn around, didn’t even need to hear the buzzing in their voice to know who it was by the feel of their presence.

“Well then, be glad you’re not the one drinking it.” He felt a hand grab his arm and let let himself be turned around. “What do you want.”

“To talk.” Beezlebub grabbed the drink out of his hand and took a long sip.

“We’re talking now.” He grabbed the drink back and glared at them.

“About what happened.” They wrapped their arm around his and steered them towards a table in the corner, conspicuously barging through a gaggle of blonds making their way towards the counter.

“Seems self-evident. We arranged to meet. The traitors realized we were there and interrupted. It’s over.”

Beelzebub made a noise of frustration. “It doezn’t need to be!” They protested. “We can go zzomewhere elze, pick up where we left off. I have my chamberzzz all prepared, everything you talked about! I have been waiting for thizzzz for weekzzz.”

Gabriel kept silent while he sipped at the drink, watching the demon fidget anxiously. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Maybe we weren’t meant to go through with something so depraved.” He pushed the drink towards them without asking and folded his hands. “All part of the Ineffable Plan. Perhaps they were there as part of Her unknowable will to stop me before I transgressed and did something truly unforgivable.”

The loud slurping noises Beelzebub was making stopped. “You don’t want thizzz at all?”

“It was a silly idea. A passing fancy. Sorry to have wasted your time and dragged you into this. I understand, that’s part of your job, temptation and all. And I suppose since it’s my job to thwart you, I should have done that right away instead of dragging out this little farce. Efficiently.” Gabriel forced a smile. “I made a mistake and perhaps it was only divine intervention that kept me from seeing it through to the end. Had I gone through with it, I might have actually Fallen - and wouldn’t that have been a disaster?” He closed his eyes and laughed a little too loud, not noticing Beelzebub’s face contorting.

“Fuck. You.” The demon tore the plastic lid off off of the drink and reached across the table to pour it over Gabriel’s head. The angel’s eyes popped open in surprise as whipped cream, syrup, and cold, coffee-scented dregs dripped across his face.

It was truly a miracle that the rest of the humans in the crowded shop were too busy with their conversations, cell phones, and half-finished novels to notice one being disappear in a puff of sulfur and another, a moment later, vanish in a crackle of lightning.

* * *

“I’ll bet that wanker did it there on purpose.” Crowley, already thoroughly drunk, made a broad, waving motion with his wine glass and Aziraphale had to do a hasty miracle to prevent the Burgundy from sloshing over the rim onto his couch. “Probably thought it was exciting, tempting fate. Doing it all in the open near us, where they could get caught.”

“You still haven’t told me, exactly, what those two were doing there.” He ran a finger around the edge of his glass. “You said it was a game but I don’t understand what kind of game would involve Gabriel dressing like a demon. And he doesn’t seem to the sort to do games. Too frivolous.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Not like that. It wasn’t a game. It was. You know, angel. A _game_.” He made another gesture and this time Aziraphale miracled the glass from his hand onto the table beside the couch. “Like. In videos. He was just acting Fallen to get punished. They way they do in magazines or whatever. He goes up to Beelzebub like ‘oh no, I’ve been a naughty angel, guess I've Fallen’ and then they. They come up from the ground and _discipline_ him for being so bad.”

Something in Aziraphale’s mind clicked. “Oh! Pornography!” Then his expression collapsed into a scandalized glare. “Surely not!”

“They even had a word. You don’t use a _word_ unless you’re playing those kinds of games.” He snatched the glass from where Aziraphale had set it aside and finished it off in a gulp. “That’s why Beezlebub was talking about temptation.”

“But why _here_? In the middle of a public park?”

“I told you already! Probably was getting off thinking he might get caught. Like when people do it in airplane bathrooms. Mile High. ‘Slike, the thrill of it, you know?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “That seems dreadfully rude.”

“You think either of those two was concerned about rude?” There was suddenly a sharp, unpleasant scent and the carpet between them started bubbling. “Well fuck. Speak of the devil.”

“TRAITORZZZZZ.” Beelzebub rose from the ground, eyes flashing red and acrid smoke wafting about them. “YOU ARE GOING TO FIX THIZZZZZ!”

“Lord Beelzebub!” Crowley slid down the couch and looked up at the looming demon lord. “Conversation didn’t go well, I take it?”

“Now he doezzzzn’t want to do anything!” At the demon’s feet, small flames licked up and Aziraphale made a panicked gesture that put out the fire but drew their attention as they rounded on the angel. “He keepz talking about your blazzzzted ‘Ineffable Plan’ - that your idiotic interruption was a zzign!”

“Please stop setting my bookshop on fire!” Aziraphale protested as there was another flare up.

“I WILL BURN THIZZ PLACE TO THE GROUND!”

Crowley groaned. “Look. I understand, it sucks, but I don’t see what either of us can do! If he doesn’t want to, how are either of us going to persuade him? We’re traitors, remember? He’s not going to take advice from us! Maybe if you wait, he’ll work his nerve back up. And for you two, it might not even take 6000 years.”

“I’ve already waited! Convinzzze him!” They demanded. “You have until the end of thiz day.” they looked at the clock on the wall. “Eight hourzzzz.”

Then they disappeared through the floor again, leaving Aziraphale looked cross and Crowley dismayed.

“Think it’s too late to run away to Alpha Centauri, angel?” He tried to smile. “Or do you have any brilliant plans?”

There was a thundercrack outside the door that made them both look over before Aziraphale glanced back. “Actually, I think I might.”

* * *

Beelzebub sat in the chair behind their desk, watching the time tick away. They held a paddle they'd originally intended to use in more pleasurable ways and occasionally smacked their palm with it as they considered all of the ways they could discorporate and cause pain to all involved. This train of thought was abruptly interrupted, however, by Crowley’s voice outside the door.

“My Lord!” They snapped and the demon entered - but not alone. He forced in Gabriel before him, hands bound, looking even more bedraggled than before, eyes dark, clothing torn apart, wings hanging limply from his side. Crowley looked tremendously pleased with himself.

“What izz thizz?” They rose up and stood over Gabriel, who had been forced to his knees on the dirty floor.

“I bring you the newly fallen, My Lord,” Crowley smirked.

Beelzebub’s eyes lit up. “Well done. Now. OUT!”

Crowley didn’t need to be told twice and left them there. Beelzebub pressed into his throat with the tip of a shoe that was suddenly pointed. “Now then. What do I do with you?”

Gabriel flushed.

* * *


End file.
